


I'm in love with the...ir poetry

by thejokerghost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ficlet, Fluff, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Other, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26324359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejokerghost/pseuds/thejokerghost
Summary: Feuilly is an observant mess. He is a mess, but an observant one. Except when it comes to others' feelings.or a fic of a headcanon I made on Tumblrplease don't read this
Relationships: Feuilly & Jean Prouvaire, Feuilly/Jean Prouvaire
Kudos: 4





	I'm in love with the...ir poetry

**Author's Note:**

> i'm procrastinating on writing the next chapter of my other fic... yay! i promise that i'm almost done, because I do want to finish this chapter before school starts for me
> 
> but anywho have my first attempt at writing pining because if I want more Frouvaire I'm gonna write more Frouvaire

Feuilly was running late.

Well, not exactly. He usually left early to get to work early, and now he was running late to be early. Maybe he was still adjusting to mindset of not taking the bus anymore. It had always made him half an hour early.

"Feuilly?"

He jumped and focused back on Jean Prouvaire, whom he had just sat beside. "Yes?"

"Are you okay? You've been staring into space for about a minute."

"I..." Feuilly shook his head. He put his hands on the table. "I am fine. Proceed, Jehan."

Jehan smiled their beautiful smile and pulled out their phone. "Yes, I found one yesterday. It's about this girl with an unrequited love..."

Feuilly listened thoughtfully as Jehan recited their poem. It was always worth sparing a few moments just to listen to their voice. Jehan's words were like kisses to his ears, their voice a pleasant song Feuilly could not get enough of. And the way they were so invested in and excited about all the poetry they found or wrote never failed to make Feuilly smile. Jehan's own smile was the embodiment of innocence and youth, and they smiled most when they spoke. They were a wonder to watch.

Recently, they had been finding and writing more and more about love. It was not a new thing, of course; Jehan had always been enamoured with romance. But almost everytime they saw each other now, Jehan had something new to say about it. Not that it mattered...

Did it? Feuilly shifted in his chair. Why was he afraid? The only reason he stayed with Jehan for a few minutes every week or so was because he loved Jehan...'s poetry.

Just their poetry?

Yes?

...maybe?

It was not like he was always thinking of them. It was not like Feuilly was eternally grateful for their constant support and friendliness despite of their difference in status in the world. It was not like he wished to spend even more time with them, that he would prefer skipping work all together to hear their voice for longer.

Jehan concluded their poem and smiled again. Feuilly hastily said goodbye and ran out of Le Musain, ready to get to work and eager to get Jehan off of his mind. However, the latter was quite impossible.

* * *

The next meeting, Feuilly was distracted. He fumbled with the lighters in his pockets, he glanced at Jehan with every opportunity he could get, he kept hearing their voice overlap with Enjolras's.

When it ended, he plopped down at Jehan's side, somehow feeling... fuzzy. He could not seem to hear the poet's words of love, only listen to the melody of their voice. He focused on their face, and Jehan's bright, strawberry blond hair; long and silky, almost always braided. Their sidswept bangs sometimes covered their eyebrows. Jehan's skin was rosy, and covered in freckles. Their emerald green eyes sparkled when they smiled. 

The song that was Jehan's voice continued, becoming stronger and more passionate. Feuilly tried paying more attention to their words, but then his attention got sidetracked to Jehan's clothes. The poet was always captivating (in more ways than one) in their "questionable" clothing. Today, they wore their favourite purple turtleneck, cargo shorts, and bright pink flip flops. They wore it in such a carefree manner that others had learned not to question them. Another reason to admire them.

As Jehan finished the poem, Feuilly felt guilty for not listening to it. After all, it had been one they had written, and they had claimed that they had been eager for him to hear it.

"...and through his dedication I wish for him to know, he inspires me, and I love him so."

Wait.

"Feuilly?" said Jehan softly.

It could not be true. "J-Jehan?" he stammered.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed." They were teasing. Oh god, they were teasing.

"Noticed what?" He was beginning to feel awfully stupid, sitting all this time watching without realizing it.

Jehan rolled their eyes, bent down and kissed Feuilly's cheek. "I think you’re running late." they said with a playful grin.

Feuilly could not hide his blush, nor a laugh. Jehan ushered him outside and onto his motorbike, but he could not care less about getting to work on time. He thought of Jehan and Jehan exclusively. At least, until he almost absent-mindedly crashed his bike into a McDonald's drive-thru.

**Author's Note:**

> this was an excuse to pack most of my Frouvaire headcanons into one fic
> 
> have a look at my [Tumblr](https://uncreativepieceofmusicaltrash.tumblr.com/) where I sometimes go off about these two dorks in depth


End file.
